Death on the Pont Noir Read Online Free PDF Page B

thing.’
    ‘Is this from the call earlier this morning?’
    ‘Yes. Something odd is going on, but it could be nothing. Second, get someone to check the garages in the area for a military-style Renault truck and a black Citroën DS brought in showing crash damage. Check the barracks, too, see if they’re missing a truck. And third, find out if anyone has applied for a permit to film on public roads in the region.’
    ‘Got it. You going to talk to the English?’
    ‘In a while. Let them stew a bit longer.’
    ‘You want me there?’
    Rocco smiled at Desmoulins’ readiness to pitch in where trouble loomed. ‘Thanks, but Godard and his men are a lot uglier.’

CHAPTER SIX
    ‘Remember, nobody says nothing unless I give the nod.’ Tasker glared at each of his companions in turn: Fletcher, the grey-haired and heavily jowled bruiser; the two bottle throwers, Jarvis and Biggs, ex-soldiers in their thirties; and Calloway, tanned, slim and looking out of place in their company. They were gathered around a table bolted to the floor, in a holding cell big enough to take all five men. Most looked hung-over and jittery to varying degrees. ‘If any of these monkeys manages to find someone who speaks English,’ Tasker continued, ‘– which I doubt – we came over for some fun, got pissed and it got out of hand. End of story. We all clear?’
    They nodded, either too cowed or too tired to argue.
    Tasker sat back, satisfied they’d follow instructions. Biggs and Jarvis were green but would go with the flow. Fletcher had done some jail time, so he knew what the score was when it came to being patient. And Tasker hadserved a couple of terms himself, several years ago, one for involvement in a bank robbery. He’d put it down to experience; it was one of many bank jobs he’d done, but the only one he’d been hauled in for and convicted.
    ‘How long is this going to take?’ breathed Calloway, studying his nails. Of them all, he seemed the most calm and untroubled. ‘Only I have a date lined up for tomorrow that I’d rather not miss.’
    ‘Tough shit, pretty boy,’ Tasker replied nastily. ‘You’ll have to give it a miss, won’t you? Just sit tight until I say so or there might be an accident happening in this cell any moment soon.’
    Calloway looked unaffected by the man’s air of menace, but shrugged. ‘If you say so.’
    ‘I do. Anyone else got anything to say?’ Nobody replied. ‘Good. Now, they got to let us go soon, so we ain’t got long.’
    Calloway looked doubtful. ‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘You don’t know French cops. They don’t play nice when it suits them, and those boys in blue weren’t being too gentle, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
    Tasker shrugged. ‘So what? We’re still in one piece, aren’t we? It’s no worse than a dust-up down Brick Lane. You take the bruises and you get the money. They might not let us go today … but they have to sometime. We sit here until they do, then we go home.’ He grinned without humour. ‘It’s all part of the plan – and you’re being paid well for it, so don’t screw it up.’
    The threat in his voice was a chilling reminder of his authority, and the men said nothing. Out in the corridor,they heard footsteps approaching. The door was unlocked.
    A uniformed officer stepped in and stood in the doorway. Big and ready, he was holding a short baton in both hands. Two others stood just behind him, similarly armed. The lead man pointed at Tasker with the business end of the baton and beckoned.
    Tasker folded his arms and sat back. ‘You want me, Pierre, you’ll have to come in and get me. Only you might have to get used to wearing your little stick through your nose.’
    The officer hesitated, unsure of what the Englishman had said. But the body language was clear enough. The three officers made a move to step forward, then a voice murmured behind them and they stepped aside.
    Another man entered the room.
     
    Rocco